


Tame

by Verfallen



Category: The Boys (TV 2019)
Genre: Femdom, Multi, Oral Sex, Pegging, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Strap-Ons, Threesome - F/F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:14:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27313195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verfallen/pseuds/Verfallen
Summary: Maeve teaches Annie how to deal with Homelander.
Relationships: Queen Maeve/Starlight | Annie January, The Homelander | John/Queen Maeve/Starlight | Annie January
Comments: 5
Kudos: 55
Collections: Trick or Treat Exchange 2020





	Tame

**Author's Note:**

  * For [girlsarewolves](https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlsarewolves/gifts).



“He really likes this?” Annie said, tightening the straps around her hips and trying in vain to find some angle or position that made the eight-inch dildo that was harnessed to her crotch look and feel less awkward.

“He _loves_ it,” Maeve said.

When Maeve told her that she could handle Homelander, she wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but it wasn’t this.

“He doesn’t really seem like the type.”

“You don’t know him very well, do you?” Maeve said, taking her boots off and leaving them by the bathtub, “A lot of guys hyper-dominant personalities on the outside want the complete opposite in the bedroom. They did a study with CEOs. Something about all that responsibility and pressure to perform in the workplace really getting to them after a while. Now imagine that instead of a CEO you have, well. Him. I don’t understand it myself, but if that’s what he wants then it suits me just fine.”

“Huh.”

Maeve looked down at the strap-on. Annie’s hand was clenched around it because she didn’t know what to do with the thing otherwise. “You’re holding onto that like it’s your fucking lifeline. I’ll take a wild guess and say that you’ve never done this before.”

“No,” Annie said.

Now that Maeve had scrutinized her, she let go of it and held her hands behind her back like a kid who had just been caught with a hand in the cookie jar. Now that only the straps were holding it up, it just hung there at a bit of a downward angle, heavy enough to be awkward. She pursed her lips, looking down at the floor to avoid making eye contact.

“Hey. It’s alright, I’m going to help you out. Hold your hand,” Maeve said, taking Annie’s hand in hers and pulling her closer.

She was being gentle but her grip was still stronger than anyone else Annie had met. She could punch through a wall with some effort, but Maeve could put a hole in the side of an armored vehicle like it was no trouble at all. Maeve kissed her on the lips, one strong arm around her waist, and her nerves settled. Someone had her back. For once since she’d joined the Seven, she wasn’t floundering around on her own while a bunch of jaded, cynical supes watched her struggle.

Maeve was jaded. A little cynical, too. But right now, she was helping. She broke away from the kiss and stepped back, rummaging over the counter for a bottle of lube.

“Put some of this on. Use more than you think you need, you’d be surprised,” she said.

“Strawberry flavored,” Annie said as she read the label, “Why’s it flavored?”

Maeve laughed, but it was a genuinely amused, non-judgmental laugh for once, “I usually make him put it on with his tongue, but I didn’t want to spring that on you.”

Annie swallowed hard. The thought of Maeve getting Homelander on his knees like that was getting her all hot and bothered and she squeezed her legs together tight.

“You could - ” she said, her voice hitching in her throat, “You could put it on.”

Maeve smiled, brushing a lock of Annie’s hair behind her ears with one hand, “Oh, you’re cute. Now lube that shit up before he starts whining about how long we’re taking.”

Annie bit down on her bottom lip as she applied a generous amount of lube to the dildo. She caught a glance of herself in the mirror, her cheeks flushed red as they’d ever been, and cussed under her breath. “Is that enough?” she said, even more desperate for Maeve’s approval after her miserable little attempt at asserting dominance failed.

“That’ll do. Come on,” Maeve said, taking Annie by the hand and leading her out of the bathroom.

As soon as they got to Maeve’s bedroom, Annie halted to a stop, feet scraping against the carpet as Maeve dragged her along for another few inches before letting go and leaving her to stand dumbfounded.

Homelander was s on Maeve’s bed, naked and lying on his stomach with his arms crossed over a pillow like the perfect little present just waiting to be claimed. His suit was neatly folded on the bedside table and without it he looked almost normal. She could almost – almost – forget that this was Homelander, until he opened his mouth.

“I can hear you ladies gossiping about me in there, you know. What is it with girls and spilling their guts in the bathroom? For fuck’s sake,” he said, craning his neck back as he stretched out like a cat.

“If you don’t like it you don’t have to listen,” Maeve said.

He turned just enough to look at Annie out of the corner of his eye, sizing her up. She was still standing in the entranceway with her mouth hanging open. Homelander frowned, letting out a small _hmph_.

“What? You don’t like what you see?” he said, and there was something about his tone of voice that didn’t sound snarky or sarcastic but genuinely a little insecure, which Annie didn’t expect from someone like him, “You’re on thin ice, you know.”

He glared at her, eyes flashing red only for a moment, but a moment was all it took to tie a knot in her stomach and send her stumbling back. From what Maeve told her she half expected him to roll over and beg for some affection, but he still spoke to her like he did in the board room. And he still glared at her with those cold eyes, somehow both dull and simmering with rage.

Maeve rolled her eyes, giving Annie a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder before walking over to the head of the bed, “You’re such a jackass, you know that?”

Homelander grumbled, his upper lip curling over his teeth. But when Maeve got up on the bed, he moved to accommodate her without even being asked to do so, shuffling downwards so she could sit on the pillow he’d been laying on. She swung one leg over him, his face resting in between her thighs. He looked up at her, brow furrowed and eyes so full of yearning that it drove Maeve’s words home: _he loves it_. He was exactly where he wanted to be, curled up beneath one of the only people in the world who could come close to matching him in a fight.

He wanted this, and Annie wished he wanted it from her as much as he wanted it from Maeve. She had to earn that, had to prove to him that she was worthy of holding the reins, and she surprised herself with how much she wanted to.

“Come here,” Maeve said, beckoning Annie over.

She took one step forward, and then another, but was still a few feet away from the foot of the bed.

“Your heart’s racing, sweetie,” he said, smiling and flicking his tongue out as he nuzzled one of Maeve’s thighs with the back of his head, “Aw, Maeve, we’re going to scare little miss purity half to fucking death at this rate.”

Maeve stroked his cheek, looking Annie in the eyes, “Don’t worry. He talks shit but he’s as tame as a dog when you’ve got him like this.”

He growled and propped himself up on his elbows just enough to be able to stare Maeve down, “You’re really pushing it.”

“Shut up,” Maeve snapped, placing one palm on his forehead and shoving him back down hard enough that he gave a muffled while through a face full of blankets, “Or Annie and I will look after each other and you can sit here with your limp little prick out all night long. Is that what you want?”

His lack of a response was enough of an answer. She ran two fingers along his lips and to Annie’s surprise, he parted them to let her in, silenced by the pressure of her fingertips against his tongue. Thumb tucked beneath his chin, she pulled him up onto her lap and he moaned, nuzzling against her stomach. Once in a while he’d open his eyes just a sliver to glare at Annie. No doubt she was an intruder on this ritual between him and Maeve: another witness to a side of him that was so different from what he was trying to be.

Was her being here just giving him another reason to wring her neck if it ever came down to that?

Annie considered herself to be a woman of good sense but she found herself drawn towards the bed as if pulled by and invisible string, the heat building up between her legs. Good sense didn’t always win out against carnal desire, not even for her. She wanted to show Maeve that she had this in her and against her better judgment, seeing Homelander like this made her want him as well. Whenever the thought of him managed to slip its way into her errant sexual fantasies, she always imagined him climbing on top of her, thrusting against her as long as it took for him to come and not a second more and then – selfish lover that he was – rolling over like he forgot she was there. Not a particularly appealing image, so she never expected him to take up any real space in her mind, but she didn’t even think of coming onto him like this before Maeve told her she could.

She wanted him like this. She wanted to see him writhe. Maybe what she really wanted was an apology but in the absence of a miracle, a whimper or a moan would do just fine.

She climbed up onto the foot of the bed, kneeling behind him as she gripped him by the hips. Her strap-on was so slick with lube that it only took a second of teasing at his entrance for the tip to slip its way in. She gasped, about to stammer out an apology for being so hasty before she watched his glare melt into half-lidded contentment. Lips still pursed around Maeve’s fingers, he hummed with satisfaction and got up onto his elbows and knees, muscles tense and quivering as he rocked backwards. She watched the rest of the dildo sink inside of him, in and then out again as he groaned, trembling in her grasp.

Maeve’s voice was the only thing that could take her attention away from him. “Don’t let him get too pushy,” she said, “You’re the one in charge. Take it away until he knows his place.”

Annie leaned back and gripped the base of the dildo with one hand, pulling it out of him the next time he rocked forwards. The most pathetic whimper escaped his mouth as she left him half-hard and unable to get any further than that.

“Mmph,” he whined, pulling away from Maeve’s hand so he could speak coherently again, “What the fuck did you stop for?”

Maeve grabbed him by the back of his neck, forcing his head down beneath her skirt. “Let Annie do her job, and use that mouth of yours for something more productive than complaining.”

He grunted in protest, but complied. Maeve’s underwear tore as easily as rice paper when he took it between his teeth and gave it a sharp tug, and he tossed it to the side with a jerk of his head before getting to work on her. Maeve closed her eyes and grabbed a fistful of Homelander’s hair as he ate her out, but she didn’t moan or cry for more or give him any sort of approval. She denied him everything he wanted and it only made him eager to please. Whatever power games he was playing with Annie, he didn’t even bother trying with Maeve.

Maeve really could handle him. In the bedroom, at least. Better than nothing.

Annie knew she wasn’t up to Maeve’s standard. Her small-town exes weren’t exactly the adventurous sorts and up until recently, neither was she. Did she just need someone strong to show her the ropes, or had her newfound celebrity emboldened her in a way she didn’t expect?

She hoped for the former but knew it was a little bit of both.

When he was nice and distracted, she straightened up again and pressed the tip between his ass cheeks to let him know that she was ready. Always greedy, he tensed up and tried to push back onto it almost immediately. As quickly as he tried to take it in at his pace instead of waiting for her to give it to him at hers, she heeded Maeve’s advice and pulled away.

She tried again and he still couldn’t resist pushing back, so desperate and needy that she could hear his muffled whines beneath Maeve’s skirt. This time she didn’t pull back; she put her hands on his hips again and dug her fingertips into his side with enough force to crush an ordinary man’s pelvis. For Homelander, it was nothing more than a pinch. She wouldn’t even bruise him. Being in this position made her aware like she’d never been before of just _how_ invulnerable he was. Every twitch of his muscles caused the whole bed to shake. If he wanted to, he could drive the back of his heel into her stomach and send her flying right out the window. This kind of pathetic, sniveling man was still a mass of raw power beneath her. Dangerous and molten hot and ready to blow.

Her heart raced like a frightened rabbit and she heard him chuckle, thankful that he had his face shoved in Maeve’s pussy so she couldn’t see whatever smug smile he had. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath in and trying to calm herself down. She couldn’t be in charge of him like this.

“Enough,” she said.

It came out too soft to be a real command. Barking orders wasn’t second nature to her like it seemed to be for Maeve.

Still, he didn’t resist when she pushed him forwards, the dildo sliding out of him with a wet pop. She held him down and he let her. Maeve quirked a smile at that, though Annie couldn’t tell if it was really for her or if it was because Homelander’s tongue had hit a particularly sweet spot.

“Tell him to let you do it,” Maeve said, her words light and airy as Homelander teased at her clit, “Either you set the pace or he gets nothing.”

“Mind your own damn business, Maeve,” he said, and she yanked his hair so hard it made him yowl.

Annie almost fell backwards when he flinched against her. Her mouth was dry as dust and she wished for a drop of that strawberry flavored lube to keep her tongue from feeling like sandpaper against the roof of her mouth.

Then he went back to pleasuring Maeve, with renewed vigor and not a word of complaint. He doesn’t get to feel pain very often. Maybe he likes the novelty of it.

“Let me do it, or - or you get nothing,” she said, trying out her best Maeve impression even though words like that sounded awkward tumbling from her lips.

_Shy_ wasn’t a word she’d use to describe her bedside demeanor. A little repressed, sure, but perfectly confident. She just wasn’t used to being so domineering. It didn’t feel natural and every time she tried, she was sure he was about to admonish her for daring to order him around, but he yielded. She entered him again, slow and deliberate, a stark contrast to his eager, hasty grinding. She drew back just as slow until only the tip was inside of him, and he stayed put.

“Good boy,” Maeve said, stroking the back of his neck, “You let Annie take care of you, alright?”

She bucked her hips forward again with more force behind it this time and Homelander let out a long, low moan. A shiver ran down his spine and she felt it like a fucking earthquake. “ _More_ ,” he purred from beneath Maeve’s skirt, “Harder.”

“Don’t let him make demands,” Maeve said, leaning back against the headboard with her chin tilted upwards.

Maeve moaned and it was the first indication Annie had heard all night that Homelander’s tongue was doing its job. She must be getting close.

“You’ll get more when I say so,” Annie said, always looking back at Maeve to make sure she didn’t sound completely stupid.

After a few seconds of making him wait she gave another thrust and he moaned again, high-pitched and wavering. He sounded like a teenager with a cracking voice, not the mighty Homelander. He leaned to one side and she caught sight of his cock, fully hard and completely unattended to. Was it wrong to leave him hanging like that? She reached around to take his cock in hand; it seemed like he proper thing to do.

“No,” Maeve said, one eye open just enough to keep tabs on what Annie was doing, “He’ll be done in ten seconds if you start stroking him off. You were doing great. Pound him into the fucking mattress.”

The remark about his stamina seemed to draw some latent fury out of Homelander and he snarled, wrapping both his arms around Maeve’s waist and holding her tightly to him as he started sucking at her clit. Maeve finally gave in and let orgasm claim her, moaning loud as she slammed back into the headboard so hard it cracked down the middle with a noise like a thunderclap. Annie had never heard Maeve say a single positive thing about Homelander – at least, nothing that wasn’t steeped in insincerity – but she was smiling a genuine smile as she let herself relax, running her fingers through his hair.

It wasn’t like Annie was in any position to judge her for taking what joy she could get. Happiness didn’t come easy in this place. Especially not from him.

Maeve rolled to the other side of the bed, taking matchbook and a carton of cigarettes off the nightstand and lighting up a smoke.

“We could – _ah_ – go again,” Homelander said as Annie began to thrust into him once more, “I’ve got more in me.”

“I’m bored of your big mouth,” Maeve said, taking a long drag of the cigarette and tapping some ashes off into Homelander’s hair, “Besides, I want to see the look on your face when little Starlight makes you come all over yourself.”

Maeve nodded in Annie’s direction and she took it as permission to start going harder, slowly at first and then picking up the pace. Every thrust made Homelander cry out, his face half buried in a pile of crumpled blankets. For better or for worse, next time he decided to scold her she’d be thinking of him lying face down mewling with pleasure. Would he crush her if she couldn’t help but giggle at him?

“You want more?” Maeve said, cupping his cheek with one hand and lifting his head out of the blankets so she could get a better look at him.

He nodded, eyes closed and mouth open, tongue panting. Maeve punched her cigarette between her teeth and held up one finger, signaling Annie to stop. She did, and he pawed at the mattress with one hand, rubbing his rock-hard cock against the bunched-up blankets.

“Say ‘ _Please, Annie,’_ ” Maeve said between clenched teeth.

“ _Ffffuck_ you,” Homelander groaned, his fingertips tearing into the mattress.

Annie wondered how many times per month some poor, tired Vought employee had to come and replace everything in a superhero’s bedroom.

“No, that’s not it,” Maeve said, looking down at him.

He was silent and still, and for a moment Annie thought he was going to scowl and pull himself off of the dildo so he could take matters into his own hands without going through all this trouble. But he waited, jaw clenched, eyes flicking back and forth between Maeve and Annie. His fingers were curled around his cock, his thumb circling over the tip.

“Please, Annie.”

He shivered again, a few beads of precum leaking out and down his shaft. Annie looked at Maeve, who nodded. “Alright. Give him all you’ve got. You won’t hurt him.”

Most of her partners had been regular people, a few D-List supes here and there, but no one who was quite as durable as Homelander. She tested his limits, gradually increasing the force she used on him. Every time she went in harder his smile only got wider and he cried out louder, too caught up in the throes of pleasure to worry about how he looked.

“Harder,” he said, his knees buckling beneath him, “ _Please._ ”

No one scolded him for making demands this time. Annie was too caught up in the act, Maeve was enjoying the last bit of her cigarette, and he _did_ at least say please. Annie gave it to him as hard as she possibly could, putting so much force into it that the lights started to flicker with every thrust of her hips. At last he threw his head back and cried out so loud that the entire floor could probably hear him, coming all over his chest in one quick burst. He fell back onto his stomach, still twitching every time his softening cock rubbed against the blankets, lips parted in a contended half smile.

Maeve stroked his hair one last time and then got off of the bed, putting the cigarette stub out in the ashtray. Annie leaned back, the still-slick dildo sliding out of Homelander so she could undo the straps and let it fall to the bed. She yelped as she felt Maeve behind her, hand sliding under her uniform so she could run it over her underwear.

“God, you are soaking,” Maeve said, pressing in so Annie could feel how wet her own underwear was, “You like making him scream, huh? I like that.”

Maeve leaned in, her chin on Annie’s shoulder as her index finger circled over her clit. Maeve’s strength wasn’t lost on Annie – she could lift her up with one hand if she really wanted to – and this time she was definitely using it for good. Now that she’d received an under-the-costume fingering from Queen Maeve, she couldn’t help but wonder if her future partners might feel a little bit inadequate in comparison.

“You close?” Maeve said.

“Uh huh,” Annie moaned, but another flicker of the lights answered that question just as well.

“That’s it. Come on, let it all out,” Maeve said, every stroke sending shockwaves of pleasure humming through her, “Don’t worry if you break anything. Someone’ll replace it in the morning.”

That permission was all she needed to let herself go. Her eyes flashed white as she came, and the sound of a couple lightbulbs popping above her was enough to drown out her moans. Maeve held her up as she went limp in her arms, preventing her from falling forwards onto Homelander. Annie’s chest heaved and her long, disheveled hair hung down in front of her face. She brushed it out of the way with one hand. Her headband had fallen off sometime during the act and was now lost between a mass of blankets.

She thought Homelander would have been watching Maeve get her off and half-expected him to roll onto his back, half-hard and ready to go again. Annie wouldn’t have minded another round, if it came down to that, but his eyes were closed and from the way he was breathing he was already asleep.

“He always sleeps like a rock after I’m through with him,” Maeve said, “So I guess he liked what you had to offer, too. The whole tower could collapse on him right now and it wouldn’t wake him up.”

Annie sighed; she never thought she’d be disappointed that Homelander was out of commission but she was still fired up and ready to go.

Maeve laughed and kissed her on the cheek, “Just because he’s done doesn’t mean we have to be. Why don’t we go back to your room?”


End file.
